


Eyes on me

by Vidriana



Series: Good as Gold [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Elaborate Disrobing, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Service Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vidriana/pseuds/Vidriana
Summary: Henrik looks down at himself, then around the room and notes that everyone else is already stripped down to their shorts, while he still hasn't even taken off his pads. Hastily he reaches down to the first buckle holding them in place, but a hand stops himTeam Sweden wins Worlds.





	Eyes on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowshus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowshus/gifts).



> This was inspired by a conversation with the wonderful teshumai about how nice the idea of hockey players taking each other's gear off is...and then it kinda derailed.
> 
> The pairing is of course due to the beautiful hug/tackle after the Worlds win, which is also when this takes place. And because I thought it would be an interesting dynamic.
> 
> Please mind the tags, even though the exhibitionism isn't that severe, and be aware that they pretty much negotiate as they go and while there are some light mis-steps everyone is into it.

Henrik still can’t stop smiling when they get back to the locker room. He’s not holding the trophy anymore, had handed it off to Joel on the way here, but the comforting weight of the gold medal still rests heavy on his chest. He sits down and closes his eyes for a second as the others stream in around him, yelling and chattering and filled with enthusiasm. 

He hears the noise of something being set down gently next to him and lazily opens one eye to check. It’s Joel, putting his mask, which he had discarded somewhere on the ice during the celebrations, on the bench next to him. “I figured you might want this back,” he says with a smile and Henrik gives him a grateful nod. Joel briefly bends down to press their foreheads together, the traditional congratulations between a goalie and his captain, all the more special between the two of them, but then he leaves without another word. 

Henrik is glad, because he doesn’t really feel like talking right now, doesn’t even want to try putting what he’s feeling into words. He’s happy, possibly happier than he’s ever been, so glad to finally _win_ something again, but he’s also exhausted, the long game, the long season, finally taking a toll on him. 

_Just a moment_ , he thinks. Just a small moment of rest before he goes to join the others again, before he joins in on the yelling and celebrating and pours some champagne down Lindy’s shirt. The sounds of the others clamoring around as they’re changing out of their jerseys in the midst of the festivities is familiar and soothing, making him feel settled enough to let his mind drift a little. That’s his team, his boys, they won together.

There’s the soft rustling noise of moving fabric in front of him, and then a gentle touch to the back of his calf snaps him out of his trance. When he opens his eyes he finds William Nylander kneeling on the ground, looking up at him through pretty blond eyelashes with a slightly sheepish expression. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he says, barely loud enough to be heard over the commotion the others are making. Henrik nods, confused, before William continues, “It’s just— you’re still in all your gear.” 

Henrik looks down at himself, then around the room and notes that everyone else is already stripped down to their shorts, while he still hasn’t even taken off his pads. Hastily he reaches down to the first buckle holding them in place, but a hand stops him.

“No, please, let me,” William says, and when Henrik doesn’t protest he carefully gets to work. He starts with the part of the pads that protect Henrik’s knees, methodically pulling them out from underneath Henrik’s goalie pants and then quickly undoing the straps that hold them in place. Then he’s unclasping the buckles that anchor Henrik’s pads to his legs, starting at the very top and moving downward. The angle is awkward, since William can’t really see what he’s doing from where he’s kneeling, and it’s clear his fingers aren’t used to handling goalie gear, but the expression on his face is almost reverent, so Henrik doesn’t even think to offer to help him.

One after the other, the buckles come undone, until the whole pad is only attached to Henrik’s skate with a single cord. Henrik watches as William’s fingers deftly untangle the knot and thread the cord through the mount of his skate, taking care not to touch the blade, even though it’s not set in a position where he could accidentally cut himself. When the string is untied and the first pad comes loose, William carefully pulls it away from Henrik’s leg and places it against the bench, making sure it doesn’t fall over onto the dirty locker room floor. 

It could almost be comical, how mindful William is with his gear, as if Henrik’s pads didn’t already have a large collection of smudges and scrapes from all the pucks he’d stopped. It’s...nice, though. It makes the whole thing feel like some sort of ritual, almost like a ceremony, especially with the way William is acting so deferential, never even glancing up at Henrik while he works. 

Henrik finds that he likes it, enjoys someone taking care of him like this. He almost feels a twinge of disappointment when William sets down the second pad, finishing the little show. But then, instead of getting up, William leans back and pulls Henrik’s right skate into his lap. Henrik must make some sort of noise, because William pauses and looks up at him. “Is this okay?” he asks, slightly hesitant, and Henrik nods.

“Keep going,” he says and is surprised to find that his voice is slightly raspy. It’s only now that he realizes that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of William for the entirety of the process. He looks up to find that the locker room around them had calmed down significantly, and that many of their teammates had stopped what they were doing before to watch them. 

Before he has time to dwell on that though, his attention is drawn back to William, who starts unlacing his skates, working with considerably more ease now that he’s familiar with the task. His fingers make quick work of the knots, but instead of pulling at the laces just enough to slip the skate off, he thoroughly threads the ends of the laces through the upper eyelets and then works his way down the skate with precise, practiced movements, loosening the laces until he reaches midway, where he stops and carefully lifts it off Henrik’s foot.

Henrik really shouldn’t be as affected by this as he is. There’s nothing erotic about someone taking off skates, and yet, when he looks at the precise way William places his skate next to the locker before focusing on the second one, he feels an excited twinge somewhere in his stomach. 

There’s a tiny bit of relief when William finally pulls off the second skate. He feels slightly guilty for the thrill he’s getting out of this, since he isn’t quite sure what William’s intention is. Henrik doesn’t want to turn this into something it isn’t. Mostly though, he wants to come up with an excuse to keep William kneeling in front of him, touching him in that careful, intent way just a bit longer.

When he looks up it becomes evident that he’s not the only one who wouldn’t mind watching for a bit longer. Almost everyone is now looking at them. Henrik can see Gabe and Elias giving them curious glances, and Eddie is sitting in his own stall, not far from Henrik, legs splayed shamelessly while he watches. When he sees Henrik looking at him, he gives him a blinding smile in return and Henrik feels a sudden surge of affection for his teammate. 

Anton is on the opposite side of the room, leaning slightly against Heddy, who seems to be whispering something to him. Joel — the rookie, not Henrik’s brother — has gone a bit red in the face. Some others are standing around in groups and pairs, sneaking glances at Henrik occasionally, while they’re going about their own business. Some have left to go shower already and from the loud splashing noises coming through the entrance, it seems that the party is continuing in the showers.

Something tugs at Henrik’s jersey and he returns his gaze to William, who’s still on the floor. He’s biting his lip and looks up at Henrik with a hesitant expression, there’s still some sweat beading on his forehead and his hair is a shade darker than usual. He’s a sight, and Henrik tries to suppress any thoughts that might be inappropriate. He’s somewhat successful until William puts a hand on his thigh and asks, “Can I keep going?”

Someone gasps audibly, but Henrik doesn’t really feel like checking who it could be. He just nods quickly and then has to suppress a shiver when William’s hands travel upwards to slip underneath his jersey. William isn’t even touching his skin, there’s still a layer of thick protective padding between his fingers and Henrik’s chest, but there’s something inherently intimate about taking someone else’s shirt off. 

William comes closer and Henrik has to spread his legs a bit in order to give him enough space. William has to kneel up to get the jersey over Henrik’s head and the way he stretches looks uncomfortable, but he doesn’t make a move to stand up to make it easier for himself, and a part of Henrik is very pleased with that. He lifts his arms so William can pull the fabric free of his head and expects William to move back again, but he doesn’t, remains kneeling between Henrik’s thighs instead.

He neatly folds the jersey, like it won’t just be thrown in the wash with all the rest of them in an hour, and places it on the bench next to Henrik’s stall. Then he kneels up again and, one after the other, slides the suspenders of Henrik’s goalie pants off of his shoulder, making sure the elastics don’t stretch too much, before reaching for the cords of Henrik’s pants. William only fumbles a little, goalie pants similar enough to the ones regular skaters wear that the fastenings shouldn’t give him any trouble, but the angle is different from what he’s used to. He’s quick about untying the laces but his fingers still brush against Henrik’s crotch when he lifts his hips so William can pull his pants down. Even though there is no way Henrik could ever feel it through the thick fabric, the sight alone is enough to make him draw in a quick breath. 

William has to kneel up a third time to reach Henrik’s chest protector and this time it’s for considerably longer, because it’s obvious he’s not quite sure where to start. Henrik takes a moment to admire the way his thighs, straining to hold the pose, look in the black spandex shorts he’s wearing. 

William checks the buckles on the protective gear covering Henrik’s arms, but finds that they’re mostly for adjustment and don’t actually stop anyone from removing the garment, so he just leaves them be. Henrik could have told him that, probably should have, because it would doubtlessly have been a pain to re-fit his chest-protector to exactly the way he likes it, but he feels a strange sense of pride that he didn’t have to.

The warm, fond feeling is quickly replaced by heat when William leans forward, right into Henrik’s personal space, looking down while unsnapping the clask just above the rim of his pants. His fingers slip on the first couple of tries and Henrik isn’t sure whether that’s due to the unfamiliar equipment, or the proximity. William’s neck, which is the part of him that Henrik can see best in this position, is slightly red, so Henrik would wager the proximity is at least part of it.

When William finally manages to undo the fastening and the chest protector is left hanging loosely around Henrik’s shoulders, he draws back a bit. His face is slightly flushed as well, and Henrik thinks William’s breath might be coming a bit faster than usually. Henrik hadn’t even noticed that he himself hadn’t taken a breath the whole time William was basically in his lap, and when he finally does it’s a bit shaky. 

To give himself a break, and so he doesn’t have to think too hard about why he’s so affected by this, he reaches down to finally remove the chest protector himself, but a wordless noise stops him. William is almost glaring at him when he looks up, and so he drops his hands again, unable to suppress a small smile in response. 

This time, he can actually feel the light brush of William’s fingers against his sides when he grabs the bottom of the chest protector and even through another layer of fabric it feels electric. Briefly he considers being uncooperative, not lifting his arms to let William pull the whole piece off, just to see what he would do. But this whole show — this whole gesture — is for him and so it seems ungrateful to interfere. 

After the chest protector is deposited on the bench with as much attentiveness as the other pieces before, William reaches up for Henrik’s neck-guard. Henrik bows his head to provide easier access, and he thinks he can feel William’s fingers shake slightly as they delicately brush against the hair on his neck while he works on the fastening there. The neck-protector is also placed on top of the pile of Henrik’s discarded equipment, which is looking a lot neater than it usually does.

When William’s done, his hands hesitate in the air for a second, before he seems to shake himself slightly and reaches out for Henrik’s jock. Henrik takes in a quick breath, but then forces himself to breathe out at a normal pace, not letting his breath catch. He’d thought they’d be done after all the padding had come off, but apparently they’re not. With the territory they’re moving into now, there isn’t any way this could still be considered platonic though, not for him. He grabs William’s wrist lightly to stop his movement. 

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” he asks William quietly, because he needs to make sure they’re on the same page here before things go any further.

William looks startled. “Yeah, I’m— you’re okay with this, right?” He’s biting his lip again, looking unsure this time, and Henrik doesn’t want him to think that he did anything wrong, not even for a second. 

“Yes, of course, you’re doing great,” he reassures, and a pleased blush spreads across William’s cheeks before he tries to hide it with a grin.

“Well, I needed to do something to make up for tackling you like that,” he jokes and Henrik instantly lets go of William’s wrist, his chest suddenly feeling tight. 

“Is that why you—” he starts, but William hastily shakes his head.

“No, of course not. I just— I want to,” he confesses, sounding shy in a way that really doesn’t match the way he’s still kneeling between Henrik’s spread legs, his palms now resting on Henrik’s thighs. He makes the statement even more devastating by adding. “I just want to take care of you. Can I?”

There isn’t anything for Henrik to do but nod, which gets him another pleased smile. Then William lightly taps the side of his hip and raises an eyebrow, and Henrik raises his hips so William can tug down the elastic straps holding his jock in place. When William goes to take it off, his hands brush over Henrik’s ass in a way that feels very deliberate and not at all perfunctory. Henrik quirks an eyebrow back at him and gets an unapologetic shrug in response.

“I like doing this,” William says nonchalantly, trying and failing quite miserably to suppress a smirk.

“I can tell,” Henrik returns, amused, and William finally allows the smirk to come out in full force. _He really is awfully pretty_ , Henrik thinks to himself. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one enjoying this,” William says and, well, now that Henrik isn’t wearing his jock anymore it’s fairly obvious that this little performance hadn’t left him as unaffected as he would have liked to pretend. He tries to catch William’s eyes.

“Are you done now?” Henrik asks and William’s eyes flicker down briefly before he licks his lips, an unconscious gesture that doesn’t mean anything, but is still breathtaking, and meets Henrik’s eyes.

“Do you want me to be?” he asks, sounding sincere, but a bit guarded, like he’s trying really hard to pretend he has no preference either way. Henrik looks at him a moment longer, enjoying the way it makes William fidget a bit.

“Not even in the slightest,” he admits finally and almost has to laugh at the relieved expression on William’s face. The laugh is nearly replaced with a moan, when William’s hands slip underneath the thin fabric of the underarmor he’s still wearing. All the careful attention and not-quite-there touches hadn’t really prepared him for how it would feel to finally have William’s fingers on his skin. 

He isn’t the only one feeling a bit overwhelmed, judging by the way he feels William’s hands pause, linger, and caress the naked skin of Henrik’s sides, before grabbing the bottom of the underarmor and pushing it upward, teasingly slow. It’s the perfect continuation of what he’d been doing the whole time, but now that Henrik knows he’s allowed, he wants more than just these fleeting touches.

“Hold on,” he says and William freezes instantly, and obediently lets go of the shirt when Henrik leans back. Henrik is glad to see that he doesn’t seem to be discouraged by this turn of events and just curiously looks up at Henrik with dark, blue eyes from where he’s still kneeling on the floor. 

As inviting as that position is, Henrik has other plans for him now. “Come up here,” he says, but doesn’t point, or gesture to elaborate what he means. William seems to get it anyway, because he grabs Henrik’s thighs to pull himself off of the floor and then proceeds to climb into his lap, bracing his knees on either side of Henrik’s hips to avoid putting all his weight on him. He looks steady, but Henrik puts his hands on William’s waist to support him anyway.

“Like this?” William asks, as if he didn’t know fully well that this is exactly what Henrik wants. Henrik is about to give some sarcastic answer to the dumb question, but then he takes William in properly. From this perspective, William doesn’t seem as small as he had kneeling on the floor. His shoulders fill out the shirt he’s wearing quite nicely, he’s nearly as broad as Henrik, and the way they’re sitting eradicates the height difference between them. 

Still, from this close Henrik can see how blown his pupils are, and if he’d assumed William was breathing a bit heavily before, he can actually see the way his chest moves now. There’s also an appealing flush on his cheeks that Henrik hadn’t really been able to appreciate before that makes him seem strangely fragile, even though from this angle, he looks anything but. Without any conscious thought Henrik raises one of his hands and grabs William’s chin, turns his head slightly so Henrik can meet his eyes.

“Yeah, like this is good,” he says gently and watches William’s eyes flutter closed briefly before reopening to meet Henrik’s own again. As an afterthought he adds, “Good job,” and is rewarded with a shiver.

It’s only a badly suppressed moaning sound off to his right that makes Henrik remember they’re not alone, their teammates can see everything, his instructions, as well as the beautiful way William reacts to them. He pulls William closer, which briefly makes him lose his balance, before he grabs Henrik’s shoulder to catch himself and lets himself be pulled in until his head is resting on Henrik’s shoulder.

From this angle Henrik can see past his head and out into the room. It seems he’d missed quite a bit while he was focusing on the distracting mess of blond hair and pink cheeks in his lap, because the scene looks different than before. Eddie’s still sitting in his stall, legs splayed, but he’s now touching himself over this shorts, head thrown back and looking at Henrik and William with hooded eyes. Rask and Fasth are sitting next to him, and they’re not doing anything but watching, but they look like they really want to. 

Heddy and Anton are still whispering to each other, but it looks...heavier now somehow, full of something Henrik can’t quite place. Gabe and Elias are also whispering, but here it looks more like Gabe is teasing, going by the way Elias is slowly turning red underneath his beard, and the way Gabe’s eyes are sparkling. Elias has nothing on the rookie though, whose blush is already spreading from his ears down to the neckline of his shirt. He turns away hastily when Henrik looks his way, but Henrik can see the way his hands are clenched at his sides.

“We have a bit of an audience,” Henrik says right into William’s ear, as casually as he can, and is rewarded with another shiver. “And it seems like they’re enjoying your little show quite a bit. Do you mind them watching? We can go somewhere else if you don’t want them to see…” he trails off when he feels William shakes his head against the crook of his neck.

Really, Henrik probably should have assumed he was okay with the audience since William was the one who had started undressing him in a well-populated locker room, but it never hurts to be sure. He grabs William’s shoulder and pulls him back again so that he’s straddling Henrik’s lap and Henrik can see his face. “You sure you’re okay with all of them seeing you like this?” he asks again, just to watch the color rush to William’s cheeks again.

“I don’t mind,” William mumbles and the way he sounds breathless, the way he’s holding his body rigid above Henrik’s so that the others can see him best and yet easily yields to even the slightest touch from Henrik, makes Henrik think that maybe having the others watch is an important part of this for William. 

“Show-off,” he says affectionately, not expecting the way it makes the expression on William’s face drop, the way he now looks like he’d been slapped in the face. He loses his precise pose as his shoulders sag, unconsciously trying to hide away from Henrik, even though he’s still in Henrik’s lap. 

“I didn’t— “ Henrik starts, but apologies probably aren’t the way to go here. “I just meant— who wouldn’t want to look at you like this,” he says instead and William’s eyes flicker up to meet his again, still looking withdrawn. “Look at you being so good for me, they can’t keep their eyes off of you. I bet they all wish they were in my place,” Henrik says in a soothing tone, trying to be sincere without sounding patronizing. 

In the end it isn’t actually him who cuts the tension. Eddie lets out a quick, breathless laugh. “Fuck, you have no idea,” he says and then grins at William. “Promise I’ll be nicer to you, Willy. How about it? Wanna come over here?” he asks with a wink, patting his lap and making no move to conceal his very obvious erection. Henrik has the perfect view of that mischievous expression returning to William’s face.

“I think I’m good over here, thanks,” he says to Eddie, who heaves a theatrical sigh, the effect ruined by the smile he’s still wearing. William straightens up again and fixes Henrik with a look he can’t quite interpret. “I have a job to finish, don’t I?” he asks, putting his hands on Henrik’s chest and rubbing over the fabric of his underarmor, but waiting for confirmation before he does anything else. 

“Go ahead,” Henrik says and drops his hands from William’s waist to give him more space to work. 

This time the way William’s fingers brush over the sensitive skin of Henrik’s abdomen when he reaches for the bottom hem doesn’t feel accidental or fleeting at all. Henrik is all the more surprised when William doesn’t linger on the underarmor for long, but pushes it up and then lifts it over Henrik’s head without even really touching Henrik’s skin. Still, he pauses when he’s done, his eyes flying over Henrik’s chest, taking everything in, before focusing back on the shirt in his hand.

He’s just as attentive as he was with all of Henrik’s gear, and so Henrik isn’t too surprised when William takes meticulous care to fold the shirt, as well as he can without a surface to lay it out on, before depositing it on top of Henrik’s folded jersey. 

He looks at Henrik expectantly, but for the first time this evening Henrik isn’t sure what to say, and after a moment William makes to climb off his lap. “Wait,” Henrik says, holding onto William’s hips and stopping him from moving away. William stops, but looks uncertain.

“I can’t do the next part from up here, I think,” he says, hesitantly, so Henrik gives him a reassuring smile.

“I know, I was just thinking…” he lets the sentence linger, while he slips his thumbs underneath the soft fabric of William’s shirt and lightly strokes the soft skin of his hips. “Why am I the only one being undressed?” he finishes, careful to phrase it as a question so William can choose what he wants to do with it. William swallows visibly and then reaches out for his own shirt. Instead of reaching for the bottom of the shirt, like he’d done with Henrik’s, he reaches up to tug at the neck, pulling the shirt off in one smooth movement and carelessly dropping it on the floor. “Much better,” Henrik says, stroking over William’s exposed sides slightly.

Someone whistles and Henrik is happy to see that William’s responding blush doesn’t just spread over his face. “Fuck, that was hot,” a voice Henrik can’t place says and someone else laughs in response. William’s breath catches a bit and Henrik wouldn’t even have noticed if they weren’t so close, if he couldn’t feel William’s muscles twitch lightly under his hands.

“Still okay with the audience?” he asks, low enough that the others can’t hear him. People actually making comments is different from just having them as a silent backdrop, after all, so Henrik wouldn’t be surprised if William had changed his mind. He gets a decisive nod in response, though.

“It’s fine. Can I keep going now?” William asks instead, but Henrik isn’t quite ready to let him go just yet. 

“In a minute,” he says, “just tell me something first.” He lets his eyes drag over William’s body, slow and deliberate, in a way that makes William fidget a bit under the attention. “Is there anything I can do for you when you’re done?” He says the last part while brushing his hands over William’s thighs, just barely missing the place where the fabric of his shorts is stretched tight over his crotch, visible now that he’s not wearing a shirt anymore. “Or maybe,” he adds as an afterthought, “if you’d like someone else to take care of you, I’m sure that could be arranged as well.”

There had been excited murmurs and the rustling of clothes filling the locker room before, but it seems like everyone is holding their breath now, the ones who weren’t interested in the show having disappeared to the showers long before. Henrik had expected someone to speak up, to happily make an offer, but it seems everyone is far too interested in William’s answer to interrupt.

“I don’t…” William starts, but then stops and bites his lip, a move that doesn’t make him any less enticing, not even in the slightest. “This wasn’t—” he starts again and Henrik has a second to be worried that he’d misunderstood something, before he continues, “This wasn’t supposed to be about me.” Henrik can’t help the feeling of fondness that spreads through his body.

“I know,” he assures, “you’re doing this for me.” It isn’t the whole truth. Henrik knows this is for William almost as much as it is for him, but he'd learned his lesson the first time he pointed that out. “And I appreciate it a lot, so I’d like to return the favor in some way.” He brushes William’s hair out of his face to be able to look at him more closely. William swallows visibly.

“I— Could you— ,” he looks away briefly, before meeting Henrik’s eyes again, a contradiction of bashfulness and confidence that Henrik has noticed in him quite a bit during the duration of the tournament. It’s highlighted again when he William finishes his question with, “Could you choose for me?” the reluctance to make the decision himself contrasting with the boldness of putting the choice in Henrik’s hands. And even though Henrik would never abuse it, he still feels exalted to have that much trust placed in him.

“Yes, of course, whatever you want,” he says, with far more reverence than these kind of negotiations usually warrant. Then he moves one of his hands to the back of William’s head, cards his fingers through the soft hair there, which is unfortunately not long enough to hold on to anymore, and pulls him into a kiss. 

Henrik had meant for it to be a simple, almost chaste kiss, just a quick press of his lips to William’s to show his appreciation. But William makes a surprised little noise and then sinks into it, lips moving against Henrik’s while his hands grab Henrik’s shoulder again to give him something to hold on to. Henrik can’t really help himself with a reaction like that, so he angles William’s head slightly to the side to give himself better access and just dives in. 

Someone whistles again in the background, but this time it’s followed by a quiet thump and a pained groan, so Henrik assumes he isn’t the only one who found that inappropriate. William moans against Henrik’s mouth, just a small sound caught between them, but it makes Henrik forget all about their audience again, too focused on trying to make William make that noise again. He doesn’t have to try very hard. 

If they’d kissed at the beginning of the evening, Henrik would have expected William to either aggressively try to take charge, or to play coy and tease, in order to keep up the pretense that he’s in control. While Henrik would definitely have enjoyed that, he likes this much better, likes knowing what it feels like when William gives himself over completely, not worried about putting on a show or what he looks like, but trusting Henrik to take care of him, to make him feel good.

Henrik can’t remember the last time just kissing someone had felt this intense and he’s not sure if it’s because of their surroundings, the long anticipation, or because of William, but he feels like he could keep going for hours. When William has to pull away to draw in quick breaths, Henrik simply moves his head so he can suck on William’s throat and jaw line instead, enjoying the feeling of the smooth, slightly sweaty skin under his lips. The moan William lets out at that is much louder, nothing muffling it this time, and it sounds even sweeter than the ones before. 

Henrik is so caught up in how much he’s enjoying it that he doesn’t notice how affected William is until he lets out a whimper and drops his weight down onto Henrik, pressing their bodies together from their shoulders down to where their legs tangle together. Henrik is still kissing his neck when he feels William’s hips grind down onto his, and suddenly he can't focus on anything besides William’s hard cock pressing against his own, only separated by a few layers of stretchy fabric. 

He puts a hand on William’s hip and pulls him closer, which gets him another whimper that he greedily swallows up. William grinds against him, his mouth going slack, before he suddenly pulls away from the kiss to bury his face in Henrik’s neck for the second time this evening. His whole body is shaking with little tremors, his warm breath against Henrik’s neck fast and irregular.

“Please, I—” he slurs slightly, trying to catch his breath enough to get out a full sentence. Henrik brushes a calming hand down his back, careful not to move too much, giving him a moment. 

“You’re fine,” he murmurs soothingly. “Whatever you want is fine,” he adds. It’s okay if William finally wants to get off. He tries to suppress the spark of disappointment he feels at the prospect of this being over now, to think instead of how pleased he is that this happened in the first place.

“I just—” William starts, pulling himself up a so Henrik can see his face again. “I wanna finish what I started, yeah?” he says hesitantly and Henrik has to take a moment just to stare at him. His hair is a mess, some sweaty strands clinging to his forehead while others are fiercely trying to defy gravity, his eyes are bright and his lips look a bit swollen and wet on his flushed face. 

The blush makes his cheeks look slightly blotchy, but the way it spreads all the way down his chest is gorgeous and Henrik would have a hard time looking away from it, if his attention wasn’t drawn to the bright red scrapes along William’s jaw where Henrik’s beard had irritated his skin. He can’t quite stop himself from wondering what William would look with beard burn in other places, thinking about where he’d like to put his mouth next and what noises William would make if he did.

It’s only then that William’s words register and Henrik stares at him in surprise. “You want to keep going?” he clarifies and William nods, still looking disheveled, but also determined. Henrik has to smile. “Like I said, whatever you want is fine,” he says, trying not to let on how pleased he is by this development. He doesn’t quite succeed, judging by the little twinkle in William’s eye when he finally climbs out of Henrik’s lap.

Seeing him kneel on the floor this time, not composed and playful like in the beginning, but dishevelled and still panting, is very different. Henrik actually feels his cock twitch in his pants when William first slips his fingers underneath the waistband of his pants. William seems to notice as well, judging by the heat in his eyes when he glances back up at Henrik, before lightly tapping Henrik’s hips to make him lift them up so he can pull down the underarmor. 

He does it unnecessarily slowly, his thumbs brushing down Henrik’s legs and finally carefully lifting the fabric over Henrik’s feet, making sure nothing gets tangled. He tugs off Henrik’s socks too, when he’s done with the pants, and then folds everything neatly. When William kneels up to put the clothes on the bench on top of the other equipment, Henrik quickly grabs the back of his head and pulls him close enough to kiss him again. He makes sure to actually keep it short this time, but the way William instantly gives in to it makes it difficult. 

When he lets William go again his eyes are dark and sharp, unlike the dazed look he had after the first time Henrik kissed him. He sinks back down to the floor without prompting, but instead of continuing he drags his eyes over Henrik’s almost naked form, taking everything in. His eyes linger a bit longer on Henrik’s knee, slightly swollen and an angry red color, a problem he’d already brought to the tournament and which probably hadn’t benefitted from more games, or from William’s over-enthusiastic celebration. William seems to have the same thought, because he carefully brushes his fingers over the swelling, before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on the heated skin there.

Henrik almost gasps, even though this isn’t anything special compared to everything else William had done. It’s the pure tenderness of the gesture that surprises him, as does the slightly embarrassed way William looks up at him. Before he can say anything about it though, William moves ahead with his plan and grabs the waistband of Henrik’s briefs, hesitating a moment.

“Are _you_ okay with the audience?” he asks, like it hadn’t really occurred to him to check before, and Henrik is charmed. 

“This isn’t the first time I’m doing this,” Henrik says, even though it definitely is the first time someone had treated the task of taking his clothes off him with this much care. 

William seems to mull that over for a moment before shrugging. “Okay,” he says and finally pulls down Henrik’s underwear. He’s so quick about it that Henrik almost forgets to lift his hips, a contrast to the way he’d treated the rest of Henrik’s clothes. Instead of folding it, he just lets it drop to the floor next to him and then stares up at Henrik with hungry eyes. Henrik wonders for a moment what caused the change in attitude, but before he can really think about it William says, “Can I keep going?”, sounding more determined than he had before.

Henrik wants to make a quip about there not being anything else to take off, but the look in William’s eyes stops him and he just nods instead. 

He can’t help the moan that leaves his mouth when William finally wraps a hand around his cock, the long build-up having made him more sensitive than usual, and he has to close his eyes as he leans back against the sturdy wall of his locker. Encouraged by the noise, William starts stroking him, setting an easy rhythm that’s neither too fast nor too slow. Just as Henrik relaxes into it, William’s hand suddenly slows down and Henrik is confused for a second, before he feels William’s breath on the head of his cock. A moment later there’s warm, wet suction around him, making him moan again, as William continues the same, perfect pace he’d been following with his hand. 

It’s good. Better than he had expected to be honest, because this clearly isn’t William’s first doing this and Henrik isn’t quite sure how he feels about that. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” someone says off to the side, but Henrik doesn’t pay any attention, focuses on getting himself under control enough to open his eyes instead, mentally curses himself for closing them in the first place. William on his knees had been a gorgeous sight to begin with, but seeing him with his mouth around Henrik’s cock, eyes closed in concentration and using one hand to cover what his mouth can’t quite reach, is something else entirely. Without any conscious thought Henrik reaches out to push William’s hair out of his eyes, so he can see his face better. 

William opens his eyes at the touch, looks up at Henrik through fine eyelashes and Henrik can’t stay quiet at that. “Fuck, you look so good like that, sweetheart,” he says and watches William’s eyelashes flutter in response, before he sinks down even deeper, until Henrik can feel the back of his throat and gasps. William chokes a bit and pulls off and Henrik is about to apologize when William says, “You can— I mean, if you want—” with a slightly hoarse voice. He doesn’t finish the sentence, but when he starts sucking on the head of Henrik’s cock again he stays shallow, like he’s waiting for Henrik to set a pace instead. 

Henrik tangles a hand in his hair and hesitates before starting to thrust into William’s mouth, gentle at first, but less restrained once William makes a pleased noise in response and closes his eyes again. “That’s— that’s good, you—” he cuts himself off with a deep moan as he feels William swallow around him. 

Henrik doesn’t last long after that. He doesn’t think anyone could blame him though. He lightly tugs at William’s hair to pull him off when he’s close and William obliges, wrapping his hand around Henrik’s cock instead and jerking him off with fast, tight strokes. He looks up at Henrik with slightly wet eyes and red cheeks, his lips parted and panting, and he’s so fucking beautiful. That more than anything is probably what pushes Henrik over the edge in the end, makes him come all over his stomach with a choked-off gasp.

“Come up here, sweetheart,” is the first thing he says when he gets his breath back, and pulls William up into his lap and into a slow kiss. He feels satisfied and languid in the way he always does after a good orgasm, so he’s surprised when William isn’t as yielding as before. Instead he turns the kiss desperate and dirty and whines against Henrik’s mouth when he puts a steadying hand on William’s ass. 

It’s only when William grinds down against Henrik’s stomach, and he can feel how hard he still is, that he remembers that William hasn’t come yet and that he had been winding him up the whole time. “It’s alright, I’ll take care of you. Whatever you want. You did so well,” he praises and William whimpers again, trying and failing to keep his hips still. “Do you want to come like this, or do you want me to make you come?” he asks, because whatever plans he might have had before, he doubts William wants to wait much longer.

“I— Can you—” William gasps out, grabbing Henrik’s hand and his voice sounds gravelly and ruined, which would make Henrik feel bad if it wasn’t so hot. 

“Of course, anything,” Henrik says and then slides his hand into William’s shorts, wrapping his fingers around his cock. William’s moan is cut off by Henrik pulling him down into a kiss again, not even attempting to go slow this time, but licking into William’s mouth instead and swallowing down all the little noises he makes as Henrik strokes him, brushes his thumb over the head of William’s cock. 

When William comes, Henrik pulls away from the kiss so he can see his face, can watch the way his eyes close and how his mouth opens around a soundless moan as he shudders through his orgasm. Henrik wants to keep looking at him, drag this out as long as he possibly can. “God, you’re perfect like this,” he says, quietly and almost reverent, which is probably not appropriate at all. He can’t help it though.

He holds William close while he comes down, whispering more praise into his ear, telling him how well he’d done, how gorgeous he’d looked, how Henrik can’t wait to do this again. The last part slips out somewhat without Henrik’s permission, but he finds that he really wouldn’t mind if there was a repeat performance. Or maybe not a repeat, but something different. 

While he’s still thinking about it William starts to shift in his lap, drawing Henrik’s attention back to him. “Everything okay?” he asks, brows creasing in concern. William makes a face.

“Yeah, just…” he gestures at his shorts, sticky and probably getting uncomfortable. “I could use a shower,” he says, then, “so could you,” with a look down at Henrik’s stomach and Henrik can’t help but laugh.

“I think we both needed a shower right after the game actually, but you distracted me,” he says and William gives him a grin that tells him exactly how sorry he is about that. He gets up off Henrik’s lap, probably for the best since Henrik’s thighs have started to go numb under his weight, and then grins. 

“Wanna shower together?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at Henrik in the most ridiculous fashion and Henrik snorts. 

“Sure, rookie, let’s go,” he says affectionately and swats William’s ass as he walks towards the door, ignoring his offended squawk in response.

“You know, you really shouldn’t call me that,” William says when he catches up with him. “I was the MVP of the whole tournament.”

Henrik takes a brief look around the locker room, mostly empty now, everyone having moved to the shower since the last time Henrik paid any attention to them. “You know, I’m sure we can find some way to celebrate that,” he says, confidentially. “I’m sure there’s some people who’d love to help.” He hears William’s breath catch, but doesn’t look at him, just continues towards the showers to join the others, leaving William to his thoughts.

He’s fairly sure that William will tell him if there’s anything more he wants and Henrik, for one, is looking forward to that.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Did I sort of leave the ending a bit open there on purpose? Yes, yes I did... 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this! I apologize for any inaccuracies in the goalie gear. I tried to find out what parts goalie gear generally consists of and wht in particular Henrik wears, but I'm not sure how success I was. Corrections are always very welcome!
> 
> If you wanna talk about anything relating to the story, please leave me a comment or feel free to come talk to me on my [writing Tumblr](https://vidrianawrites.tumblr.com/)!


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